Ni Francia, ni Espanya, Paises Catalans!

Title translated, "Not France, not Spain, Catalan countries!" (Sorry if that was painfully obvious already). September 11th is the National Catalan day, really a day of memory (and mourning?) of the day that Catalunya was conquered by Madrid, and officially became part of España. I went to the festival held in the Arc de Triomf promenade. Unfortunately, my camera ran out of battery so I couldn't take any pictures of the Catalan pride and little kids running around with independence flags on their backs. 

I heard not a word of Castillian that day. If you needed to speak with someone, and had no knowledge of Catalan, you were better off doing it in English. The official Catalan independista movement does not believe in the use of violence, but you may be severely reprimanded and made to feel very unwelcome, and you know, like a dominating, conquering, imperialist bastard. 

Every other person was dressed in some type of independista garb. My favorite? A shirt that reads, "I am Catalan, and that means I am NOT Spanish." This was written in English. 

The march that I was lucky enough to witness was very moving. I was surprised by the fact that many older people, couples, and families participated, instead of the usual screw-authority kind of crowd. 

One of my fantasy to-do's while in Catalunya was to take part in just such a parade/demonstration. While I would feel silly (not to mention like a downright fraud) joining in without the ability to speak the language, I think my presence there validates a check-off. 

*Elaboration about the title/chant: Catalan country includes the Catalunya in Spain, the Balearic islands, the small Catalan community on the Italian island of Sardenya, and the Catalan-speaking parts of southern France. 

¡Feliz Cumpleaños a Mí!

I bought myself a cake. Raspberry mouse. It was delicious. I'm saving a piece for my Spanish roommate, you know, to thank her for being española.

First birthday without family or friends. A bit sad, yes, but it's a grand thing that I very much enjoy being by myself, and oftentimes prefer it to being with others. (I supremely enjoy good, interesting company, but I rarely want to be with people just for the sake of being surrounded by other humyn beings.)

¡Bienvenidos a Barcelona!

Things I like about Barcelona (in no particular order):

1. Cheap Produce. Produce in the EU is much cheaper than in the US. This is, of course, because they heavily subsidize it, but I would rather have subsidized produce than subsidized corn, dairy, and flesh products (as it is in the US). 

Today, for instance, I bought 2.03 kg of peaches for 1.52 E total. This is almost 4.5 pounds for $2.2! They also have a bargain space for slightly damaged produce. .59 E/kilo. I picked up 2 small eggplants and 3 apples for... 90 dollar cents! (Everything you see above I bought for $5.45.)

2. Walking by the Arc de Triomf everyday. I can also see it out of my window. And this one is much, much better than the one in Paris.

3. Barcelona is a truly multicultural and diverse city. People don't even turn their heads, no matter what language you're speaking. Of course there are large immigrant groups, (Morroco, South America, Pakistan, China) but you really can find a bit of everything. 

4. Just as there are many different ethnicities, there are also many different neighbourhoods and parts of BCN. There's the Barri Gotic, the oldest part of town, and one of the best preserved Middle Ages neighborhoods in the world.  There you are likely to stumble on some Roman ruins as you walk to the sports goods store. There is the beach front, with its shiny buildings, chic restaurants and clubs, construction, and large promenade. There is Barceloneta, the gentrifying fisherman's quarter which reminds me very much of cara Italia. There is El Raval, the slightly dodgy, slightly hippy and very cool Pakistan/Morroco district. Tourists are now settling there however, and they are kicking people out of their homes to build hotels. There is the very large, sprawling L'Eixample, with its modernist gems, wide lanes, (full of cars and noise) and stupid, rounded corners, which make you walk half a block before you can cross the street. And there is Gracia (just discovered today). It's like the Barri Gotic in that it's largely pedestrian, but without all the tourists. There you find all sorts of progressive, new agey, community oriented things. Everything from yoga studios to independista community centers, to...Centers for the Parents of Adopted Chinese kids? 

I really enjoy the ability to pick and choose neighborhoods, even though they hardly form a cohesive atmosphere or spirit to the city. 

5. Walking through some part of the Barri Gotic everyday, and by countless fruit stands, bakeries, and natural products stores. (I will elaborate later on how the grocery system varies from the one in the US). 

Things I don't like:

1. Concrete. 

2. Cars.

3. Lack of grass/flowers/trees/green things in general. 

This city is an absolute disaster when it comes to being literally green. Everything is grey. Everything is paved. There are very few parks, and none of the sidewalks have grass or any other type of greenery lining them. You know what this means? Dogs pee/do other things on the pavement. 

Probably the majority of streets do have trees lining them. But as you see here, the poor things are encased in concrete. Although I am learning to plan my routes to avoid the big streets, my pulmonary and nervous system is frazzled by the end of the day. Too much car noise, too much car exhaust. 

4. Having to constantly be careful to not step in dog droppings. See above.

Those are actually my biggest complaints about the city, but in my book, they are very serious. Apart from the environmental implications of creating a baking urban heat island, it's just not very pleasant to be out and about,  no matter your politics.

No Spain, no Gain

Yes, it really does look like this. 

This title seems more appropriate now than ever before. Let's be honest, Italy spoiled me. The language, the food, the people, and the scenery. Oh, the scenery! Citrus-colored houses amidst a backdrop of lush, dark cypress trees, craggy mountains, and a brilliantly blue sky. Apparently paradise does exist on earth. To go even further, there were several points during the summer where I genuinely thought that if I were to die right now, I would be deliciously fulfilled and content. 

One of the consequences of my new found love is that of course, I am not as happy with Spain as I could be. And if I do compare every other place to Italia, maybe that just simply says that I should be there, not wherever I am. 

There was only one time (that I can remember; still, a maximum of two times) that we said, "Wow, this could be anywhere in the world right now." The spirit of Italia is inescapable. It is everywhere...train stations, roadside cafes, and street art. It's probably the water, because I swear it will infect you too. 

In Spain, on the other hand, I have that feeling regularly. It is easy to blame that on the cosmopolitan, truly diverse and multicultural city that Barcelona is. You could be anywhere in the world, because all of the forces in the world have acted upon this place. 

I have, however, already been lucky enough to see other parts of Spain. (Tarragona, Valencia, Costa Brava, Madrid, Toledo, Cuenca, Zaragoza). I haven't found the contagious spirit yet, or the passion that seeps through your pores and saturates the ground. I guess there's just too much concrete. 

For now, mia cara Italia, I leave you. But I will be back soon. And in the meantime, I will write blog posts about my summer! (I know you've been waiting. But it will be worth it.)

(Yes, that's right, it is a train station!)